The Liar and the Profiler
by MidnightWolf191
Summary: Spencer was ready for a relationship. Alex left the team, he came out as bisexual, and now he wants a girl, or a guy, to come home to after a rough case. Sander was a young dance teacher living life on the road, running from the past he can't seem to bury deep enough. When both are invited to a wedding, Spencer and Sander just might have a small chance. Spencer/OMC
1. Chapter 1

Another after-case bar night, courtesy of Rossi and Morgan. Rossi for paying, Morgan for dragging his friend along. The whole team joined while Reid was perfectly content sitting at home and reading. Sadly, Morgan had other plans.

"Come on 187, no need to be such a party pooper!" Garcia yelled cheerfully, clearly drunk. She was a happy drunk, which seems impossible, but with Penelope Garcia, nothing is impossible.

"Sorry Penelope, I'm just a little tired is all." Spencer replied calmly, holding his head, trying to will the pounding music down to a more suitable volume, but sadly enough, it did not work.

"We're all tired Baby G," the woman wrapped in colorful clothing and make up says, wrapping her arms around his shoulder and pulling him onto the dance floor. "And that is why we have dragged you here, you need to unwind."

Penelope grasped his left hand with her right and navigated his right hand to her shoulder while she did the same with her other hand. Garcia led them into a fast paced tango that was more of organized jumping, but soon enough Spencer was laughing and smiling along with the drunk woman he saw as a sister. Many things could be said about the colorful woman, but she always knew how to get the young agent to have somewhat of a good time, even if his mind was still racing from the revelation Alex had shared with him two weeks prior, that she was leaving the team.

So far, nobody had heard from her since. Except for Spencer, that is. She had called him twice, both times they avoided the topic of her leaving, but that didn't mean that there wasn't a hypothetical cloud over the conversations. But otherwise, things were going great. Emily had come back from England, baring gifts for all. A signed TARDIS for Penelope and Spencer, autographed by Matt Smith himself. Some calming tea for JJ, Henry was getting to be a handful so the tea was very appreciated. Ties for Rossi and Hotch with the English flag printed on them. And as a gag gift for Morgan, she brought him a pamphlet on How to Come to Terms with Your Sexuality.

He came out as bisexual about a week ago in order to give Spencer the push he needed to admit it himself. He wasn't lying about his sexuality, he just came out so that Spencer would do the same and hopefully settle down with a nice guy or girl.

Spencer was brought back to earth when Garcia started leaning on him more and more. Clearly the alcohol was taking its toll on her, Spencer huffed a laugh before dragging her over to a booth and sitting her down, waving Hotch over when he saw the man at the bar, sitting and nursing a water, he and JJ were the designated drivers for tonight. At first it was Hotch and Rossi, but, let's just say that the Italian has a weakness for red wine, despite its simplicity, Rossi loved it and cherished it to the last drop.

Hotch made his way over to the duo, sliding in the booth opposite of them. "Hotch, I think she's had enough." Spencer said as Penelope leaned her head on his shoulder and started playing with his hair, giggling all the while.

Hotch gave him a look that clearly was his version of, you think? But to most the look would've been just another glare. It would take an expert - a profiler even - to notice how his features softened the slightest bit and his lips twitched into the tiniest of smirks.

"Well, that's not a surprise." Aaron said lightly, referencing that every time the female agents had a girl's night out, they appeared at work the next morning with hangovers that could knock an elephant on it's feet.

"What should I do? No one else seems like they're ready to leave yet," Spencer noted, nodding to Emily and Morgan who were dancing in a small crowd of males and females, males crowding the former and females the latter, and sparing a glance at JJ who was playing darts in the corner, cleaning the floor with the men she was playing against.

Aaron looked critically at all of them before handing Spencer his keys and saying, "take my truck, but if you get in a wreck, make it count."

"Hotch, are you sure?" Spencer asked, slowly standing up and hoisting Garcia up as well.

"The worst that could happen is that you scratch it, in that case you pay for it by doing extra paperwork, I'm fine either way." Aaron says, standing and helping the young agent escort Penelope to the truck Aaron owned, Spencer didn't know what model it was, but it was an old Chevy that was as reliable as the man that drove it.

On that note, the men helped a giggly Garcia into the truck and they bid a fond farewell until tomorrow, when Spencer would leave the truck at the Hotchner residence tomorrow morning before taking the train back to his apartment for a relaxing day of reading and coffee. The perfect day of rest and relaxation after a tiring night full of dancing and giggly Garcias.

The ride to Garcia's apartment was quiet, except for Garcia's drunken giggling and genius observations. Mostly, 'hey 187, you need to get laid.' And, so far his least favorite, 'alright Baby G, here's what Imma do, I'm gonna send you to a club every night until you get a date.'

She wouldn't actually do it, but the thought alone gave him a small headache.

Spencer dropped her off in her apartment, where she promptly passed out on her bed. The young man removed her glasses and shoes before making his way out of the apartment and locking it with his spare key that Garcia gave him just in case something happened to his apartment and he was unable to stay there.

Spencer drove home, listening to his own thoughts. He found himself pondering the idea of actually dating someone.

The thought was appealing, having someone there for him, a constant in his life that could make him temporarily forget the horrors that he faced while on a case.

The thought was dismissed as fast as it came, there was too much danger. The only relationships he ever had had ended in disaster. Lila stopped talking to him after he left, and Maeve had died because of his job. He couldn't put anyone through that ever again.

He arrived at his small apartment complex twenty minutes later, ready to collapse into bed, but naturally something had to go wrong. Well, not wrong exactly, but it did delay his mission to collapse into bed for the next day with his books and coffee.

The young agent opened his door and looked around. The books were where they usually were, scattered around his apartment. On shelves, his coffee table, desk, and kitchen counter, even some on his floor from when he fell asleep on the couch while reading and didn't bother picking them up again. The only thing that changed since this morning was the pile of envelopes next to his door.

He picked them up and began skimming through them. Dropping Hotch's keys on an end table before heading to the kitchen to make his good night coffee. Most of the envelopes were junk mail, only one important enough to open. Something from his old friend Ethan, he hadn't spoken to Ethan in years, so why would he all of a sudden write a letter to Spencer?

He scrunched up his face in confusion before opening the letter. Inside was a laminated paper with handwritten scrawl in Ethan's familiar chicken scratch writing.

Hey Spencer, I know it has been a while, and you may not know this, but I am engaged. Yes you read that right, and I would like to invite you to my wedding. My fiancé and I want everyone to be there by next Friday, 27 of October, because we're getting married the first of November and we want everyone there for the rehearsals and such.

Katherine and I, my fiancé, would be honored if you would come down. Besides, you were my best friend for years, and it wouldn't be the same if you weren't there. 

Below that was,

Join us for the union of Katherine Davis and Ethan Campbell, November first, 2014.

That was new. Ethan was getting married? Why didn't he tell him before, just springing this on him out of nowhere isn't exactly ideal. How was he even supposed to make the wedding? He would need to use at least a week of his vacation days, which in itself wouldn't be a problem, but what if there was an emergency with his mom and he needed those vacation days?

No, he couldn't go, end of discussion.

But that didn't necessarily mean that he wouldn't keep pondering the pros and cons while sipping his coffee and rereading the invitation, even though he never forgot what he read, he still needed to process this strange request.

On the other hand, Hotch had been on his case recently about hoarding his vacation days. One week couldn't actually hurt him, after all, he did have more than anyone else.

So that's it then, he's going, no changing his mind now. He picked up the phone and called the RSVP number.

* * *

**New story, new fandom... I know there is a lot of Spencer/OC stories, but I hope this one will be different. Sander is male, so if anyone has a problem with that please leave now. I hope that everyone who reads this will review, follow, and favorite. **

**I will answer reviews right here, updates will be somewhat sporadic, but hopefully they will be relatively close together, and I will only update after three reviews, whether they are guest or you use your profile. **

**This chapter focused on Spencer while the next one will introduce Sander. **


	2. Chapter 2

_"Campbell residence, Ethan speaking." _

"Ethan, it's Spencer." The young agent said sipping his coffee and looking around his apartment. He truly hated talking on the phone, it made him feel as if he were talking to thin air the whole time. That is why he preferred hand written sentiments.

_"Spencer! It's been a while, did you get the invitation?"_

"Yes I got it, but I was wondering, why the short notice?" He asked, running a hand through his hair and grinning slightly at the sound of his old friend's voice. It had been a while, and that was exactly why Spencer was going to the wedding. If he died on a case or something happened to Ethan, his last interactions with the man should be pleasant and not Ethan chastising him for lying to his team.

_"To give you less time to think your way out of it."_

The man replied without missing a beat, making Spencer smile. There was always a certain carefree attitude that Ethan had while talking to anyone, even though he held wisdom far beyond his years. "Well, it worked. I'll be there."

_"Great, can't wait for you to meet the future Mrs., oh, and you'll have to take a dance class."_

"Wait, what?" Spencer asked, leaning forward in his chair. He would not take a dance class. No chance at all.

_"Kat wants everyone on my side to take a dance class so... you're screwed man. She said something about me making friends with people who had two left feet. I can't blame her, she's seen me dance."_

Spencer was far from a bad dancer, but that did not mean he was an expert. After all, the only dance he knows how to do is a simple four step slow dance, and sometimes he forgot where to go next. "I'm not taking a dance class, Ethan."

_"Yes you are, Genius Boy. It's not negotiable. So stop your pouting, put on some dance shoes, and get your ass on a plane before I get you here myself."_

Spencer rolled his eyes in exasperation, same old Ethan. "Well, do you at least know who's teaching the class? I don't want to learn how to dance from someone who will only make me look like an idiot."

_"I highly doubt that anyone could make you look like that. But yeah, his name is Sander Mason, one of Kat's friends and he works cheap."_

"Sander? That's a weird name." Spencer said, he honestly thought that the dance teacher would have an alias that sounded as if someone had wasted too much time on and thought they sounded clever.

_"Yeah, tell me about it. I asked Kat what the deal was with this guy but all she said was that he has a hard time staying in one place for long."_

"So he's a drifter? How old is he?" Spencer asked, already piecing together an unintentional profile for the dance teacher.

_"Yeah, and he's twenty-eight. Real good friend though, every time we had a fight she'd call him up and cry to him. If he was in the area he'd come over and help her through it before coming over to my place and getting my side of the story before helping us work it out."_

"Sounds like you found a future marriage counselor." The agent remarked, more pieces of the puzzle coming together. Late twenties, good with people, able to compartmentalize and use that to help others. A good friend, dancer, and he possibly has no family, hence being a drifter.

_"Definitely, we won't waste money on some shrink when we have our own. Anyway, I have to get going, some more wedding preparations that need me."_

"See you in a couple days, Ethan." Spencer said before standing and stretching, getting ready for bed after the twenty minute conversation. The young agent quickly collapsed into bed, letting his mind wander to the impending wedding and the people that might be there. His thoughts also brought him to the dance teacher.

He despised shaking hands with someone he just met, how could he dance with someone he didn't even know? Spencer just sighed before letting himself fall asleep. He'd cross that bridge when he came to it.

**New Orleans, Louisiana**

"Sander, you're coming to this wedding even if I have to drag your sorry ass here myself." A young brunette woman with green eyes says, talking into her cellphone and watching her soon-to-be husband talking with an old friend on the house phone.

_"Kat, I'm not sure if __I can make it. I'm all the way in New York, how the hell am I supposed to be there in two days?"_

"Maybe if you lived with me you wouldn't have this problem." The woman, Kat, says into the phone, glaring at the counter top.

_"Kitty, we've went over this, staying in one place means that I might see him again, and I can't have that happen. Especially near someone I care about."_

"San, you can't keep this irrational fear that your father will find you wherever you go. It's going to kill you!" The woman says, all thoughts about the wedding forgotten.

_"That man is not my father, not now, not ever."_

"Alright alright, just- Try to make it Sander. It would mean a lot to me and I know how much you like dancing, you'll be able to teach Ethan's family how to dance." The young woman snickered into the phone, hearing her friend's breathy laugh over the phone.

_"Agh! I can practically feel the puppy eyes- I'll try, but don't kill me if I'm late."_

"No promises Sander, just don't drive straight here okay? Get some rest before you make the trip." She says worried, just as her fiance hangs up the phone and writes down the name of whoever just RSVP'd.

_"No worries Mother, I'll be fine."_

She rolls her eyes at his sarcasm before replying with, "goodbye Sandy, now get some rest."

_"Yeah yeah, see you in a couple days. And don't call me that!" _

She hangs up the phone before turning to her fiancé, "who called?"

"An old friend of mine, Dr. Spencer Reid, works with the FBI, said he'd come down for the wedding." Ethan says, wrapping his arms around his wife and yawning, "damn this wedding stuff is hard."

"Yes, it is, but it'll be worth it. I called Sander and I talked him into coming down in order to teach your relatives how to move next to a human being without breaking something." She says with a tired smile, remembering when they moved into this house, his dad dropped the table. the table was fine, but his dad broke his damn leg.

"You're hilarious. Good thing he could come, I just told my friend he'd have to take a dance class before the wedding, and I just happened to mention Sander's name." Ethan said, kissing his fiancé before asking, "I'm dead on my feet, bedtime?"

"Hell yes, if I have to answer another phone in the next four hours I'll rip my hair out."

"That would not be good." Ethan nodded, grinning before throwing his fiancé on his shoulder and bringing her to the bedroom for some well deserved rest.

* * *

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	3. Chapter 3

One day. In one day Spencer would be in New Orleans. He was nervous, mainly because the last wedding he had been to was JJ and Will's. And that was a small family affair.

Knowing Ethan, his wedding would be the same. But what about Katherine? The wives usually have most control over the wedding, so what if she wants it to be a big fancy wedding? Should he wear his usual button up with a sweater vest or should he buy a tuxedo? He didn't want to feel even more out of place than he would anyway.

Maybe he should call Ethan and ask him. No no, that would be weird. Maybe he should ask Rossi? Yeah, he could do that. Just call him and ask. He picked up his phone and dialed the familiar number nervously. Hopefully the older male would have the answers to his seemingly childish problem.

_"Spencer? What is it this time? Another damn case?"_

"No! No, I just need your advise on a personal matter." Spencer replied, biting his cheek to keep from laughing at the Italian's disdain for cases. It was something they all had in common, just as much as they loved the expressions on a family's face when their child was returned safe or the killer of a family member was caught.

_"Ask away then, but make it quick, I've got chicken milano on the stove and a date tonight."_

Spencer smiled at his older colleagues' explanation, nearly making all the nervousness in his stomach go away. His team always had that calming effect on him, but he could still feel a small tingle of nervousness that had resided in his stomach since his youth. Growing up with a paranoid schizophrenic, he was always aware that he could become like his mother or that something could happen to her. Thankfully enough, the headaches that plagued him no longer do so, only for suitable reasons like a miserable case or a terrible night's sleep.

"My friend, he invited me to a wedding in Louisiana and I was wondering what was appropriate to wear at a wedding." Spencer said, packing his bag and making sure he had enough clothes for the week long trip.

_"Well, most weddings are a suit and tie affair, but your work clothes would be just fine. Just - don't wear the sweater vest, it makes you look like a kid."_

"Gee, thanks." Spencer said sarcastically, which over the years, has become less and less rare. Just a sign that he was comfortable around his team.

_"No problem Reid, now knock 'em dead and bring home someone to keep your mind at ease. God knows you think too damn much."_

The young agent rolled his eyes at his team mate's response. Ever since he came out, the whole team excluding Hotch had been trying to get him a date or trying to persuade him into getting one himself. The only comforting thing about that was Morgan would get the same treatment if he weren't dating Savannah. She already knew about his sexuality so she had no problem with it. "Yeah I'll do that."

_"You better, or else I'll set you up with one of my ex-wives' nieces. I need to go, bye Reid."_

"Goodbye Rossi." The genius said before hanging up and sighing. That resolved the what to wear issue, and now he was all set to go. He had already reserved the ticket to Louisiana and Ethan had said he would pick him up from the airport. He finished packing for the week long trip quickly, all he had to do was fold some clothes and put them in a bag, along with packing his toothbrush and other necessities. Coffee, for example.

Yes, the young agent brought his own coffee with him when he went out of state. After all, you never know if the coffee at the police station will be delicious or terrible. So he never took the chance.

The team owes him fifty seven dollars thanks to terrible coffee.

**New Orleans Airport**

The plane ride was less than pleasant. There was a child behind him who kept kicking his seat, the steward spilled soda on the man next to him so he had to deal with his complaining the whole flight, and every time someone walked passed him, he had to deal with with them kicking his foot.

So all in all, a terrible flight.

He was finally able to relax when the plane touched down at Louis Armstrong airport in New Orleans. He got off the plane and found his bag with minimal problems. Now all he had to do was find Ethan in the crowd of people that only seemed to keep getting bigger and bigger.

The agent sighed before looking for the bearded face of his friend. When he saw him, he found a young blond male next to him, easily the same height as Ethan with a lean build and stubble on his cheeks with bags under his eyes, which were a bright green color that immediately caught his attention.

Spencer found himself walking towards the two men, the two of them engaged in light conversation, judging by the smirk on the unidentified male's face and the crinkling of Ethan's eyes as he chuckled.

Both of them turned toward Spencer as he neared, and Spencer found himself analyzing Ethan. He was more clean shaven than before, his beard now trimmed and clean instead of the unkempt bush that it was before. Other than the physical appearance, Ethan looked the same to him as he did all those years ago. Simple button up with jeans and sneakers, his usual work attire that he'd taken to wearing all the time.

"Spencer, you sure are a sight for sore eyes." Ethan said with a grin as he moved in to hug the younger male. After the hug, Spencer turned toward the blond male with a raised eyebrow aimed toward Ethan, "oh don't worry about him, he's just our doorman."

"Yeah and you're my french maid." The man retorts with a grin before turning toward the agent. "I'm Sander, the greatest choreographer in the history of choreographers."

"If by choreographer you mean common dance teacher who didn't bother graduating high school, then yeah, that's him." Ethan adds quietly, but loud enough for both men to hear.

"Hey! He did not need to know that." Sander said with a small glare that was clearly faked.

"Sorry about the help, he has an attitude problem but he means well." The old friend of Spencer's pointed out to the younger male, making him grin. Honestly, it was refreshing to see Ethan interacting with Sander, it obviously meant that Ethan had gotten over his commitment issues and wasn't scared of making bonds with new people, though the wedding should've been enough proof of that.

"Yeah? Well the help is going to make you a shit sandwich if you don't quit telling the man lies." Sander turned towards Spencer, "I'm a dancer that teaches classes for weddings, parties, and stuff like that. Just because him and Kat need me to teach people how to dance somehow makes me the help."

"It's nice to meet you Sander, and apparently I'm not that good of a dancer so I'll be in your class." Spencer said, adding his two cents into the conversation, shifting his feet a little so the weight of his bag doesn't crush his shoulder anymore than it already is.

"Nice to meet you too, hey can I give you a hand with that?" Sander asked nodding toward the bag on the agent's shoulder.

"Um, yeah sure." Spencer nodded, handing the bag to Sander who easily swung it over his shoulder and started walking away. "Hey! Where's he going?" He asked Ethan who was chuckling at his friend's reaction.

"Relax Spencer, he's just taking it out to the car." Ethan said, clapping a hand on the other man's shoulder before leading him out of the airport and into the parking area. "Now, where the hell did I park that thing?"

"Wrong way, Art Tatum!" A voice called from the other side of the parking lot, causing both men to turn and see Sander on top of a bench and waving them over as if he were a traffic director.

"Is he... alright?" Spencer asked tentatively pointing over at Sander who just flipped off an older man because he went the wrong way through the parking lot, resulting in cursing from both males and insults to mothers everywhere.

Ethan drew in a breath and crinkled his brow before answering. "He's had a rough life Spencer, and right now, he just drove down from New York, he hasn't gotten any sleep in two days, so... it's either this or him passing out in the middle of the road."

"That has to be at least a four day long trip, how did he make it?"

"Let's just say he should not be behind the wheel of a motor vehicle. Ever." Ethan said with with a slight chuckle and it took all the restraint Spencer had not to laugh when Sander stumbled and fell off the bench, landing on his side and groaning.

Ethan and Spencer rushed over to him, he had some dirt on his tee shirt and jeans, but other than that, he appeared fine. "Are you okay?" Spencer asked, just in case something was wrong that they couldn't see.

"Nothing bruised but my ego," Sander said, rolling over and sitting up. "Son of a bitch, I need some sleep."

"That sure was graceful, Jackson." Ethan stated, lending a hand to the other man and pulling him up.

"Don't you ever compare me to that sorry excuse for a singer, Campbell." Sander said, pointing at the musician warningly before smiling. "Let's get this show on the road gentlemen, I need to get some rest before I start singing _Toxic__."_

* * *

**_Sorry for the wait, but I'm pretty sure this one is longer than the last one, but at least you get to learn a little more about Sander!_**

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**_TazzieLuv13; Thanks, I hope you aren't disappointed!_**

**_Guest: Let's just say that Morgan can get very over protective of the people he cares about, and Reid is no exception._**

**_Guest: I guess you'll have to read to find out then huh?_**


	4. Chapter 4

After Sander's declaration of his hate for Michael Jackson and his confession that he could sing Britney Spears' _Toxic _word for word, the three men headed toward an old gray Camaro.

"There she is..." Sander said, unlocking the car and popping the trunk, placing Spencer's bag in it and shutting the trunk loudly.

"Ethan, you said you drove here." Spencer remarked noting Sander's reaction to the car and piecing together that this car was Sander's.

"I did."

"But that's Sander's car." The young agent stated while he watched Sander lift the passenger seat so the man was able to squeeze himself into the back seat, only looking mildly uncomfortable. Spencer and Ethan got into the car before Ethan answered.

"I'm a lot of things Spencer, but suicidal is not one of them." At Spencer's confused look he elaborated, "let's just say, that man-child back there can make an atheist pray for forgiveness just by driving them somewhere."

"I'm not that bad!" Sander interrupted from his spot in the back seat, a very childish pout on his face as he stared at the two men.

"Sander," Ethan said slowly, "you made Kat's sister go into labor last year."

Sander seemed to have no comeback for this, so he simply huffed before handing Ethan the keys and leaning back into his seat, his dark green tee shirt contrasting against the dark leather seats nicely with his hair and eyes finishing the picture. To be honest, Sander looked like the stereotypical surfer form California.

Spencer looked around the inside of the car, it smelled like a mixture of pine trees and leather, most likely from New York and the fact that the seats were leather. The floorboards were relatively clean, with only a few pine needles and straw wrappers on them. There was an auxiliary cord dangling from the radio, so it appeared that Sander didn't necessarily like listening to the radio. The car was relatively comfortable, and it was obvious that this was Sander's home and he took very good care of it.

The outside of the car was also very clean and well kept. The gray paint – maybe even silver – shined in the sunlight but not so bright that it was obnoxious, there were a couple bugs smashed against the front of the car, but that was expected after driving for two days straight. Spencer speculated that he cleaned this car at least once a week, far more than most people cleaned theirs.

Taking into consideration the fact that Sander is a drifter, this car went far and fast. Getting Sander where he needed to go with no problems, so of course he would take care of it, like one would take care of their bedroom, Sander took great care of this vehicle, no matter how horrendous his driving was.

"Spencer, how old are you?" Sander asked from the backseat, making Spencer turn and see the man sprawled across the seat, twirling a necklace in his hand and looking curiously at the agent.

"I turned thirty last September." Spencer says, shifting uncomfortably at the scrutinizing gaze Sander shoots his way. "What?"

"Nothing nothing, you just look younger is all." Sander says nonchalantly from the back seat.

"And you don't look a day past twenty two for someone who claims to be twenty eight." Spencer retorts, his cheeks flushing in mild anger at the younger man in the backseat, prompting the blond to raise an eyebrow. It wasn't Sander's fault Spencer looked young for his age, but he got enough of that on cases and he was starting to get annoyed by it.

"Easy tiger, I was just saying." Sander says, his arms held up in surrender. "Off of the uncomfortable topic, what do you do for a living?"

Sander seemed to be genuinely interested, his head tilted and green eyes studying him as if he was able to figure it out by himself. "I work with the Behavioral Analysis Unit in the FBI."

"Damn, guess that means I should get rid of the body in my trunk."

"What?" Spencer asked, horrified at the man's confession. Eyebrows drawn up and mouth slightly open, only then did he realize that Sander was pulling his leg. The dimples he didn't notice announced themselves along with the grin on Sander's face, with the low chuckle that made him sound as if he had a sore throat but also gave Spencer the impression that he did not laugh often.

"Relax, if I did kill someone I wouldn't taint my baby by putting it in her trunk." Sander shrugged, putting the necklace around his neck, letting Spencer see the military dog tags that hung on the chain.

"You seem awfully attached to this car." Spencer mused, prompting Sander to look at the older man with wide eyes and a horrified expression on his face.

"Damn right I'm attached to Baby! I bought her with my own money that I raised myself by working two jobs and singing on a street corner, so yeah, I'm attached to her." Sander said all this in one breath before smiling wryly to himself. "The Behavioral Analysis Unit is like catching criminals by guessing their personalities right?" Sander asked him, calming down after his defensive explanation.

"We build profiles based on what the serial killer or rapist does to the victims, but your way of putting it is right too." Spencer said, studying Sander's face as he ran his hands through his hair in a frustrated manner.

"So here I am, making myself look like a freaking basket case in front of someone who deals with them for a living." Sander mumbles, making Spencer feel angry at his generalization that all people who had mental illnesses turned into killers.

"Not all people who are not well, mentally, turn into killers." Spencer said calmly, even though what he wanted to do was reach over the back of the seat and smack some sense into the younger man.

"I know I know, that's not what I meant." Sander said, looking at Spencer apologetically, realizing how bad his accusation sounded to outside ears. "I meant that I was making myself sound insane in front of someone who deals with... You know what? There's no good way of putting that, forget I said anything."

Spencer noted the sincere confusion in the man's voice before nodding and turning to look outside of the window again, hearing some shuffling in the backseat before soft snores were heard. Clearly Sander was more tired than he seemed.

"Don't take anything he says too seriously, Doc. When he's tired he tends to run his mouth and forget his manners, but when he's well rested, you'd swear he was an altogether different person, he turns into the perfect gentlemen and tomorrow he''ll be the sorriest bastard you've ever seen." Ethan said quietly, eyeing the sleeping form in the backseat wearily, he tends to sleep talk, and sometimes the man says the weirdest stuff he's heard in his life.

"Sorry Luci, didn't know it was your Moose..."

Mumbles from the backseat brought both men's attention to the backseat, thinking maybe he was messing with them, but no, Sander was sleeping peacefully with the dog tags clutched loosely in his hand and his neck bent at an uncomfortable angle. "Is he- is he talking about _Supernatural_?"

"What's that?" Ethan asked the genius, not knowing what he was talking about.

"_Supernatural _is a television series that stars Jared Padalecki who plays Sam Winchester and Jensen Ackles who plays Sam's brother Dean. Luci is what the archangel Gabriel calls his brother Lucifer when Gabriel confronts him inside of the Elysium Fields hotel after Lucifer slaughters numerous pagan gods. Moose is what Crowley, the King of Hell, calls Sam because of his height, and in real life, Jared Padalecki is six-four and has a brother who is even taller than he is -"

"Alright alright I get it!" Ethan interrupts him with a small grin on his face, "but what I don't get is why he said Sam was Lucifer's."

"That could be because Sam is Lucifer's vessel, meaning that in order to start the apocalypse, Lucifer needs to possess Sam, but he needs permission from Sam in order to do so. Indirectly marking Sam as Lucifer's property, in a less serious sense, he could be saying that he didn't know Sam and Lucifer were in a relationship, while that is not canonly true, many fans of the series believe that Lucifer and Sam should have a relationship, resulting in the pairing name _Samifer."_

"And how does the technophobe Spencer Reid know about this _Samifer?"_ Ethan asks teasingly, looking over at the young genius and noting how a light blush covered his cheeks.

"My team's technical analyst Penelope Garcia has an unhealthy obsession with _Supernatural _fanfiction, and she tends to print the ones she likes and give them to me as new reading material."

"Shut up, Not Moose..."

"Would you like to elaborate on that one too?" Ethan asks Spencer, referring to Sander's latest mumbling.

"In season nine's episode _Blade Runners _Crowley has an unhealthy addiction to human blood, and when Dean calls him, Crowley's caller I.D. shows that _Not Moose _is calling. Apparently, after this episode aired, _Not Moose _was very popular on twitter."

"You sure know a lot about _Supernatural."_ Ethan mused turning down a little dirt road and leaning back into the comfortable seats of the Camaro.

"_Supernatural, _along with _Doctor Who _and _Star Trek _are some of my favorite television programs." Spencer said happily, in a better mood after his conversation with Ethan.

"Aliens made me slow dance!"

Ethan shakes his head before stating, "I don't wanna know."

"Good, that episode was a wonderful mess anyway." Spencer said turning to look at Sander in the backseat. He is probably the only person in the world who can remember small details from a TV show in his sleep, literally.

* * *

_**Well this one came a little easier to me than the other three, probably because I was writing about my favorite character in Criminal Minds fan-boying over my favorite television show.**_

**_Reviews:_**

**_TazzieLuv13: I'm glad you weren't disappointed, keep reading!_**

**_TheMysteriousGeek2345: I'll definitely write more, and thanks for the compliment! Anyway, Sander in my mind is pretty cool so I'm glad someone agrees with me!_**

**_Guest: Thanks! You calling Sander funny is indirectly calling me funny as well, so thanks for that!_**


	5. Chapter 5

The ride to the hotel Ethan and Katherine booked was calm after their conversations. The only sound being Sander's occasional mumblings, some regarding _Supernatural _, some not, and the constant rumbling of the engine. All of it was very relaxing, so Spencer leaned back and let himself relax for the time being, mentally preparing himself for what was to come.

After all, the only person he would know there would be Ethan. Sander seemed nice enough, but that doesn't mean Spencer is comfortable around him. Sure, the friendly smile and open attitude makes him approachable, but there is a certain darkness about him that puts Spencer on edge. He'd felt that darkness on some cases, but the young genius doesn't believe that Sander would do anything remotely illegal. Spencer would get Garcia to look into his file while he was staying here. Spencer's hunch about Sander being harmless could always be wrong, and you can never be too careful, especially when you're an FBI agent with the right resources to do the job correctly.

Spencer's internal rambling was interrupted when Ethan pulled into a nicely sized hotel. It wasn't fancy, but it was far from the dinky motels they passed along the way where the rooms were all booked by exterminators using the rooms to make their year's paycheck.

It was nice, a Victorian style four story with a courtyard and a swimming pool out back. "This is really nice..." Spencer said slowly, still in awe at the beauty of the hotel.

"This is actually Kat's parents' hotel. Back in the day this place was their grandparents house. It's got a studio that we'll use for pictures, dance classes, and the after party. The courtyard is where the ceremony will take place, and everyone will be staying at the hotel, including myself and Kat. The second and third floors will be for bachelors and bachelorettes while the first and fourth floors will be for the couples. Bachelors on one side bachelorettes on the other, a couple of people will have to pair up, but that's because there's only four rooms on the second and third floors, with two on the first and fourth floors. So that's the layout, if you get lost then just yell and someone will help you, it sounds simple, but the hallways can be confusing at times." Ethan explained before taking the keys out of the ignition and throwing the keys on Sander, making him bolt up and stare wide eyed at the space in front of him.

"Sander!" Ethan said, snapping his hand in front of Sander's face, making him eye-ball the hand in front of his face like it was about to kill him. "How about you get out of the car and say hello to Kat?" Ethan suggests making Sander nod.

"Yeah... yeah I can do that..." The man yawned hugely before clambering out of the car slowly, following the two very much awake men into the hotel. "Holy shit..."

"San!" A high pitched squeal made everyone turn towards the desk at the back of the room, where three woman were gathered, two of them older than the third who is a beautiful woman with dark hair and a charming smile. The young woman ran over to the men, dodging Spencer and Ethan and colliding with Sander. He takes a small step back and opens his arms for her, catching her with some difficulty before steadying himself and hugging the woman clinging to his neck.

"That's Kat." Ethan says simply, nodding at the embracing adults, looking as if they had not seen each other in years.

"I'm so glad you made it Sandy!" Kat says with a bright smile unlocking her arms from his neck and stepping back from him in order to assess her friend. Sander didn't change much, but Kat always had an eye for detail. Sander's bangs now covered the scar on his forehead and fingerless gloves were on his hands, covering multiple burn scars. His biker boots that he's worn for years now have some more scratches on them than before, but are still clean. He was wearing his favorite dark green tee and worn blue jeans, she also had no doubt that he had not been clothes shopping since the last time he'd visited. Sander himself had bags under his eyes, but the gleam of humor and compassion were still in his face. She could see it in how he looked at everything softly, as if afraid to piss off a lawn chair by looking at it wrong. He also had crinkles at the edge of his eyes, letting her know that his time on the road wasn't all bad.

While Kat was assessing Sander, he did the same to her despite his tired state. Kat was dressed in simple blue jeans and a blue flannel with her bangs pulled away from her face. She wore no make up except for eyeliner to accentuate her bright green eyes. She still had that kind motherly smile she's had since they were sixteen. She wore reading glasses that made her look younger than her actual age, but she always looked young. Her feet were bare, as they almost always were, with a toe ring on her pinky toe that Sander had given her for her sixteenth birthday.

"It's been a while," he says looking around the hotel, noticing the old fashioned chairs and desk, along with the high arches. Sander whistled, "every time I come here I swear it gets fancier."

"No, your taste just gets worse and worse." Kat says, pulling Sander over to Spencer and Ethan before introducing herself the the FBI agent. "It's nice meeting you, I'm Katherine, but you can call me whatever you're most comfortable with."

"Thank you Katherine, I'm Dr. Spencer Reid, or Spencer, or just Reid." Spencer stumbles out awkwardly, not used to talking with this woman who had stolen his friend's heart. He could see why, she was beautiful, she had a warm personality from what he's seen, and it appears that her maternal instincts are very strong.

"Doctor? What did you study?" Katherine asked him, elbowing Sander when she noticed how his mouth dropped open and he had no intention of shutting it. Sander quickly composed himself before looking back at the young doctor.

"I have PhD's in mathematics, chemistry, and engineering and I also have BA's in psychology and sociology."

"Son of a bitch!" Sander exclaimed loudly, making multiple heads turn toward them, but when the people noticed it was Sander, all they did was shake their heads and smile at the childish behavior. "What are you, some kind of super computer?"

However, Spencer was not familiar of Sander's lack of brain to mouth filter, completely taking him off guard, making him say uncomfortably, "I also have an eidetic memory, and IQ of 187 and can read twenty-thousand words per minute."

"So yes, you _are _a super computer." Sander nodded resolutely, wincing when Kat elbowed him in the ribs. "Geez, I was just..." Sander was silenced by what he called the 'mom look', he believes that every woman has one, while every man has a 'dad look'. Made to silence unruly children and keep people in line, those looks were what kept Sander from getting himself killed. "Sorry Kitty..."

"Why don't you go to your room and unload yours and Dr. Reid's bags. You two are okay with rooming with each other, right?" Kat asked, looking at the two men critically.

"You know I don't mind." Sander said simply, staring at Spencer with a raised eyebrow. "If you're not comfortable with me in the room I can just take the lobby, I have to be up early anyway to get ready for dance lessons."

"No, it's alright, as long as you're okay with me keeping a light on." Spencer said, shifting on his feet , getting ready for the rejection or teasing about to come.

"Nah it's fine." Sander said, making Spencer look at him in surprise. "What? Everyone's got their little phobias, if it makes you feel better, I'm terrified of the teletubbies. And clowns." On that note, Sander left to go get the bags from his car, coming back shortly, carrying a medium sized duffel and Spencer's small suitcase and messenger bag before starting up a large staircase and yelling down, "if you don't want to get lost, I suggest you hurry up!"

"He is... strange." Spencer said, walking to the staircase before climbing it.

"Something tells me Sander made quite the impression." Kat said, looking at the two men climbing the staircase together, laughing when Spencer tried to take a bag from Sander and having his hand slapped away.

"Well, at least they're getting along." Ethan added, noticing the wicked gleam in his fiance's eyes. "Please don't tell me you're going to play matchmaker again..."

"Oh then its best I stay quiet then..." Kat said before running over to a group of her friends and whispering among them, no doubt trying to get them involved in her little scheme. Kat wasn't one to interfere in people's relationships, but when she did, her sister got a loving husband and child, so now she believes anything is possible.

Now her mission is to get Sander and Spencer together before the end of the week, and she needs the help of her friends, who are also tired of Sander's bitching about wanting a guy that wants more than a one night stand. It was getting tiring for everyone.

* * *

"Well, this is it!" Sander announced dramatically, heaving the heavy oak door open with his shoulder and spreading his left arm, from which his duffel and Spencer's bag was dangling while the right dragged the rolling suitcase across the floor.

"You seem familiar with this place." Spencer noted as Sander placed his duffel by the bed nearest to the door and placing Spencer's on the bed across from it.

Sander smiled tightly at him before nodding, "yeah, when Kitty and I were living together we worked here."

"You lived with Katherine?"

"Yeah, when I was sixteen the Davis's took me in and gave me food and shelter, didn't ask for anything in return. So, I got a job, put half of my paycheck into the Rainy Day jar. It was the least I could do." Sander said pulling a small laptop out of his bag and clicking away before turning it to show Spencer a young teenage girl with brunette hair being held bridal style by a scrawny blond teenage boy, both of them smiling brightly. "That's me and Kat when we were seventeen."

"You two looked happy together, why did you break up?" Spencer asked, resulting in Sander laughing raucously. "What?"

"Kat and I weren't dating, it would be a little awkward for both of us if we did though." Sander said all of this before laughing manically at something his mind thought up.

"Why is that funny?"

"Dude I'm gay, have been since I was fourteen and I thought Jan from _Bring It On _was hotter than all the cheerleaders."

"Oh."

"That a problem? If it is I'll leave." Sander said, grabbing his duffel and laptop before standing.

"No! It's not a problem, I was just shocked is all." Spencer said, clearly embarrassed by his not so perfect profile of the man standing before him.

Sander smiled brightly at him before sitting down on his bed and shutting his computer. "So Spencer, any strange habits I should know of before I go to bed?"

"Um, no not really, I just like to keep a light on." Spencer said uncomfortably, tilting his head at Sander as the younger male climbed onto his stomach and crossed his legs in the air, looking like a stereotypical teenage girl, completing the image when he balled his hands up into fists and rested his head on them.

"Come on! Everyone has weird habits, doesn't have to be something you'll do when you're here, but just give me something!" Sander whined, giving him a look that can only be described as a teenager getting something he had wanted for a long time only to open the box and realize it was empty.

"I drink more coffee than everyone I know."

"Gross," Sander shuddered, "can't stand it myself, anything else?"

I like _Doctor Who _and _Supernatural_." The man said, looking at Sander and grinning slightly when his face lit up and dimples became prominent on either side of his face.

"Yes! I love those shows more than you can imagine!" Sander said excitedly, nearly vibrating he was so excited.

"I know."

"How?"

"You talked in your sleep."

"Aw," Sander said, his face now burning a bright red. "What did I say?" His question was muffled because he had buried his face in his hands.

"Mostly you just quoted Gabriel word for word." Spencer said, not bothering tp bring up the few times Sander brought up his almost dislike for Dean and his fondness for Sam and Crowley.

"Naturally, the guy is my favorite character, who's yours?" Sander asked him, his face now back to normal and returning to his faked teen girl impression.

"I haven't really thought about it much, but I like Kevin and Castiel." Spencer says looking at Sander as a look of approval appeared on his face.

"Very nice, I too share a certain fondness for stereotypical tiny Asian geniuses." Sander says jokingly, nodding his head over-exaggeratedly and chuckling along with Spencer when the older male laughed at his description.

"That is the most offensive and accurate description I've ever heard." Spencer says, noting the proud look on Sander's face.

"I try my best."

"What about you, what quirks do you have?" Spencer asked him, noting the way his shoulders tensed and he bit his lip.

"Well, I love my car, in case you haven't noticed."

"Anything else?" Spencer just knew that he was holding back far more than he was letting on.

"Hm, I have a Colt New Frontier in my bag and a machete. Both of them legal, I have a concealed weapons permit." Sander said, nodding at his bag next to him.

"Why a machete?"

"Well, back when I first started watching _Supernatural,_ Kat noticed how much I got into it and got me one for Christmas, said just in case a vampire decides to ambush me in a club." He said smiling fondly at the memory. "You wanna see them?"

"I don't see why not." Spencer answered, "as long as the gun isn't loaded."

"No it's not, I only use it at the shooting range." Sander replied while rifling in his bag pulling out a long case and opening it, revealing a machete, obviously new, and a revolver that looked like it had seen better days, but still clean enough to let Spencer know that Sander knew what he was doing.

Sander picked up the revolver and held it out to Spencer, pointing it toward himself. "Uh, no thanks, I'd rather not."

"Alright," Sander shrugged, putting it back in the case with his machete and snapping shut the case.

"You seem comfortable with those."

"Drifting can be dangerous," Sander shrugged. "I don't exactly have scheduled times I call Kat, and I only visit once every year or so. If I were to be in trouble, nobody would know, so I'm happy I have these. If I need to use them I will."

"Are you a good shot?"

"I'm no marksman, but I can hit where I'm aiming."

"That's better than I was," Spencer said looking down at his shoes and grinning. "When I first joined the BAU I couldn't shoot the right side of a barn."

"You got better right?"

"Yeah," Spencer nodded, looking up to see Sander's tilted head and bright eyes. "I find that I'm a better shot when I'm experiencing extreme terror."

"Probably the opposite with me, when I'm scared the only thought in my mind is_ run like hell and never look back." _Sander says chuckling, looking up at Spencer before folding his arms on top of each other and resting his head on them.

"Is- is that why you're a drifter?"

"Spencer, you're a very intelligent man, so I can assume that you already know the answer to that." Sander said tiredly, giving Spencer a dry smile before yawning and looking at his phone. "Damn, ten already, I gotta get some sleep. I need to get the studio ready for my classes in the morning. Goodnight Doctor."

"Night Sander."

Maybe half an hour later, Spencer could hear Sander's incoherent mumbling starting up again. Mentally debating himself, Spencer pulled out his phone and dialed the familiar number.

"Garcia, could you do a background check for on a guy named Sander Mason?"

* * *

_**Sorry for the wait, but like I said, three reviews before I update again. If you couldn't tell, I really like Supernatural, and I keep mentioing it in the story so I don't end up accidentally making it a crossover. (My mind does that sometimes)**_

_**Reviews:**_

_**TazzieLuv13: Thank you very much!**_

_**guest: THANK YOU FOR THE COMPLIMENT! WHY ARE YOU YELLING?**_

_**guest:Thank you for the awesome compliment! Did'ja see what I did there?**_


	6. Chapter 6

**Back at Quantico**

Penelope Garcia and Derek Morgan were exchanging their usual banter after they finished their duties. Derek always came to Garcia's office after he was done with his files and bugged her until she was done with whatever her job was.

Honestly, the team thought she played games on her computer because it was required for her to come to work on the weekdays.

The phone rang, making both agents frown confused. Not many people called her while she was at work, so who would be calling her tonight?

"This is the office of everything good and magical, you are on with the great Penelope Garcia and her humble servant Derek Morgan."

"_Garcia, could you do a background check on a guy named Sander Mason?"_

"Hello to you too sweetie, everything alright?" The woman asks, already typing the name into her computers and scanning everything that came up.

"Is there a case there?" Derek asks, already dreading what could happen to the younger agent without proper backup.

"_No, but there is someone who caught my interest."_

"Our boy is all grown up." Penelope says, holding a hand to her heart and wiping a fake tear away from her eye.

Derek places an arm around her shoulder before cooing, "I'm so proud."

"_Not like that! He's just strange, and he reminds me of someone."_

"Who does he remind you of kid?" Morgan asks, unsure whether to be happy or disappointed that Spencer has not, in fact, found someone to be with.

"_Not necessarily a who, more of a what. He reminds me of a rape victim."_

"What makes you say that?" Garcia speaks up this time, still searching through multiple websites, most of them about dancers and old Camaros.

"_It's just the way he is. He looks at everything and everyone cautiously, he doesn't have any connections to anyone other than his friend Katherine, and I saw some scars on his neck earlier today. They looked like bite marks, and not the kind that go away after a few days."_

"Alright, while you were yapping about disturbing things I finally found his file. Sander Mason, originally born Alexander Daniel Mason on December 21, 1986. He's a free lance dance teacher, good reviews from everyone. They all say he's good with children and adults alike, etcetera, hm, oh this doesn't look good. When he was six his mother killed herself, ten his older sister Amelia did the same, and when he was fourteen Amelia's twin Alyssa did the same."

"_So I was right, he doesn't have any family."_

"You'll be surprised when you hear this Sweet Pea, but you are wrong. Sander has a dad, Daniel Austin, owns an auto shop and makes some pretty big bucks in a small town in Texas called Palestine."

"There's a four year gap between each suicide. How'd they do it?" Derek asks, leaning over Garcia's shoulder and looking at the picture on her screen of a confident looking young man with his head tilted to the side, smirking at the camera while leaning on a wall with his ankles crossed. Under the picture was a caption that stated, _there's nothing really special to say about me to make you hire me, but I know how to dance, and I love teaching others. Whether you have two left feet or break everything you touch, I can at least make you learn how to do a four step slow dance. (If you don't know what that is, I suggest you take my class.)_

"His mom Zoe shot herself in the bathtub, Amelia jumped from a hotel into the pool, and Alyssa overdosed on heroine."

"_Who found them?"_

"Oh god, Sander did, all of them. Paramedics said he was doing his best to resuscitate them when they arrived. One report filed for the death of Zoe Mason said, _her kid Alex knew she was dead, but he still tried to bring the lady back. Poor kid had tears streaming down his face and bloody water all over him. _ That poor kid!"

"_What else? Look for any crimes against Sander and Daniel."_

"Not much for Sander, dropped out of high school and disappeared, dad wasn't worried. He appeared again in New Orleans when he got a job at the Davis Hotel. He's got some parking and speeding tickets, but he's clean."

"What about Daniel?" Derek asked, frowning when he heard that Daniel wasn't worried when he found out his son was gone. The man didn't even report him as missing, just sat idly by and got back to sitting on his ass and working his employees to the ground. Morgan didn't know this for sure, just call it a hunch.

"Interesting, he's been accused of DUI, sexual assault, aggravated battery, spousal battery, and Zoe's death, but all were randomly dropped not even two days after the charges were filed." Garcia said, pulling a picture of a man with blond hair in a crew cut with piercing blue eyes that look colder than the garage he was standing next to. The man wasn't even smiling, and all of his employees looked serious as well, maybe even frightened, Garcia was no profiler, but the man looked like someone you shouldn't mess with.

"_Why were the charges dropped?"_

"Doesn't say, just says that new evidence was found, doesn't say what." Garcia mumbled, looking more disturbed my the minute, no doubt piecing together the information and Spencer's theory about what had happened to Sander.

"You don't think-"

"_I do, I think Daniel Austin killed his wife, daughters, and tried to kill Sander."_

"Doesn't fit the time line, there's a four year gap between all of the deaths." Derek pointed out.

"_Sander probably knew what happened to his mom and sisters, so he ran before Daniel could do to him what he did to his family. And he's been running ever since."_

"What about the scars on his neck?" Derek asked, not liking where this was going, at all.

"_I'm thinking that Daniel raped his whole family, killing them when they became boring. He probably started when the twins turned six, and when Sander did the same, he replaced his mother. Amelia and Alyssa most likely plotted to run away with Sander, so Daniel killed them. When Sander had all the right resources, he ran and never looked back."_

* * *

**_So, I think it's obvious why I changed the story rating to M, but be warned, there will be no smut. I can't write good smut to save my life, so I just don't do it. This chapter was short, and it didn't have any Sander, other than the facts. This chapter was a little heavy, but the next one won't be. _**

_**Reviews:**_

_**TazzieLuv13: THANK YOU AND I'M GLAD YOU LIKE THE STORY, NOT TO SOUND PICKY BUT COULD YOU REVIEW THE CHAPTER AND REPLY TO MY ANSWERS?**_

_**Arminia: Thanks, glad you like it! Keep on reading and reviewing and I'll probably update sooner.**_

_**CANADIAN (Guest): Thanks for the compliment, and of course I'll do more!**_


	7. Chapter 7

Saying that Sander was tired was an understatement. He spent two days driving from New York to New Orleans and all he wanted was to stay in the comfortable bed and sleep until the wedding day.

Sadly, Kat signed him up to teach her future in-laws how to dance, and he'll be damned if he let his best friend down. Sander sat up slowly, looking across the room to see the dark eyed FBI agent curled into a ball and sleeping soundly. It wasn't that surprising really, he guessed that the flight wasn't entirely pleasant, and he knew the man didn't go to bed until midnight, and it was only six in the morning.

Sander chuckled before grabbing a random tee shirt and dark jeans from his bag before making his way to the bathroom and doing his morning ritual which included showering, brushing his teeth, and shaving. His hair grew faster than anyone else he knew, so he couldn't stand not shaving for more than three days. Sander simply hated stubble, it reminded him too much of his father. He already had the hair color down, no need to look anymore like him.

He threw his old _Supernatural _tee on and his jeans. Sander made his way back into the room, running his hand through his hair, getting drops of water on his shirt but it didn't really matter since it was black and the only design on it was a white devil's trap. He loved wearing this shirt, especially in towns where 99.9 percent of the people in the town he was in were old fashioned Christians.

He loved making them think he was a Satanist, it made his day every time.

He pulled on some socks and his boots before looking over at Spencer. The young agent was peacefully sleeping, officially making Sander feel like a vampire, watching people while they slept. Sander shook his head and made his bed before making his way out of the room, his phone and wallet in his pockets. He walked down into the studio that would be used for his classes and sighed.

The studio was mainly used for storage, so he would have to move everything up to the attic before he had any classes, and they started tomorrow afternoon. He put his phone on one of the speakers that he had left when he was nineteen and started playing random songs from it. Most of them being by _Marianas Trench,_ the band was a sort of guilty pleasure of his, along with _Black Veil Brides _and _Three Days Grace._

_Stutter _by the first mentioned band started playing, making Sander grin lightly, before it fell off his face when he realized how much physical work he would be doing today. There were boxes, bins, and suitcases filled with the Davis family junk and he would be the one to put it in the attic where it belongs. Of course, he was the one to put them there in the first place, but that was far from the point.

He started heaving bins from on top of boxes and putting them in the corner of the room before pushing the boxes closer to the door and jumping over them, picking up one of them and leaving the studio, climbing four flights of stairs before reaching the attic and nearly dropping the box. "Damn this is heavy..."

Sander was far from out of shape, but he also wasn't the strongest man in the world. Climbing four flights of winding stairs with his arms weighed down with a fifty pound package resulted in him cursing every deity he knew the name off and cursing to himself for not paying more attention to his arms the few times he went to a gym. All he usually did at the gym was walk around the machines and wish he had brought money for the vending machine. Every now and again he did laps in the pool or ran on the treadmill, but neither of those actually did anything for his arms except for keep them from getting flabby.

He would have to rethink that, mainly because the Davis's saw Sander as a son they never had, making him do the heavy lifting. He was happy to help, but sometimes he swore that he lost twenty years worth of calories every time he came back to New Orleans. But of course with Cassandra Davis's cooking, he most likely gained them back just as fast.

Sander sighed again as he lowered the stairs for the attic before heaving the box up there, leaving the stairs down for no reason other than the fact that he was being lazy. He walked down the stairs again and entered the studio, only to find Katherine sitting on one of the bins cross legged. "What're you doing down here Kat?"

"I figured you could use a little help Sandy."

"Told you not to call me that Kitty," Sander grinned. "And if you want to help, get your fiance or someone else down here to help me with the boxes, you can do the bins and bags if you want, but you know your mom'll kill you if she finds out that you're doing work during your wedding week."

"She'll kill _you _if she finds out that you were planning on doing this all by yourself." Katherine grinned before standing up and grabbing a backpack before strapping it on and grabbing two of the suitcases. "C'mon Squirrel, if you want breakfast we have to get this done and showered before eight."

"Yes ma'am," Sander laughed with her, gabbing another box before the two made their way up the stairs, putting the items in the attic before making their way down to the studio again.

"So Sander," Katherine began, heaving another back pack over her shoulder while Sander was pushing another box to the other end of the room. "What do you think about Spencer?"

"I don't know enough about him to say, why?"

"I don't know, just curious is all. I mean, you don't have a boyfriend yet, do you?"

"No..." Sander said drawing out the word and discretely pouting, facing himself away from Kat as he sat up against a box and rested his arms on his knees.

"But if you did find yourself interested in someone, you would tell me right? I mean, I want to make sure he's the right guy for you and all, someone who can keep you in one place, keep your mind off of He-Who-Should-Not-Be-Named, you get what I'm saying?"

"Yes Kat, I would tell you if I had a crush on someone, happy?" Sander grinned looking up at the woman, she was wearing her only gray tank top and denim shorts that went down to her knees, hair pulled up in a ponytail with her feet bare, as always.

"Good, so you like Spencer then?"

"Y- wait..." Sander trailed off, looking up at the woman who had too often conned him into telling her everything about his life, including some things that he would rather keep buried in the box in the back of his mind. Locked up tight, as it should be.

"How about I give you until after the wedding to give me an answer, I know that not even you can develop feelings for someone based on a four hour orientation."

"Am I really making this deal?"

"Yes you are, and you have no choice in the matter."

"I guessed."

After that conversation, everything was silent except for the shuffling of boxes and bags along with the rock music blaring from the speakers. It wasn't awkward, things were just like that between them. Katherine does her best to help Sander out with things that he should've learned how to do a long time ago, he gives her hell about it, and they let each other think. It was just how they were, it was probably why Katherine's parents thought her and Sander were dating when they were kids.

It was an awkward situation for all of them, let's just say that Sander thought that he might've been permanently mute, thanks to the embarrassment caused by that little talk. Initially he tried to keep his sexuality from the Davis family, but that all went to hell when Carter Davis told him to use condoms when he was with Katherine.

Yeah, Sander tended to end up in awkward situations wherever he went, that was just part of the gig for him.

Soon enough, the studio was cleared out and ready to be used. Katherine and Sander were both soaked in sweat and knew that before they even thought about going to the dining room they had to take a shower so Cassandra Davis wouldn't kill them with a wooden spoon. Cassandra is Katherine's mother, and she had a thing for cleanliness when in the dining room or kitchen, understandably.

They headed up to their designated rooms, Sander lightly panting as he opened up the door, only to find Spencer standing in the middle of the room with only a towel wrapped around his waist. Sander blinked, wondering if his mind was playing tricks on him, but no. Spencer appeared to have just gotten out of the shower. Sander noticed the light muscling on Spencer's biceps and stomach before throwing a hand over his eyes and taking a deep breath before muttering, "uh.. shower."

Spencer jumped nearly three feet in the air and started blushing, not that Sander could see it, thanks to the hand covering his eyes. Spencer saw that there was also a similar blush on Sander's face, but putting that along with the sweat on his face Spencer guessed that he was just doing some sort of physical activity. Spencer shook his head before putting his boxers, slacks, and a polo on before clearing his throat and squeaking out, "I'm decent."

"Alright," Sander mumbled, before he started shuffling around in his bag, pulling out another pair of jeans and a purple shirt before scurrying into the bathroom, shutting the door and letting his head lean onto the bathroom door and taking multiple deep breaths.

Sander shook his head before hopping into the shower again, willing a certain downstairs problem to go away before the end of his shower.

Spencer was sitting on his bed with his head buried in his hands and a small blush on his face, muttering "stupid," to himself over and over again. He was sharing a room with an admittedly gorgeous guy and Spencer just had to make him uncomfortable.

Sander made his way out of the bathroom, seeing Spencer sitting on his bed, slumped over with his head buried in his hands. "Hey... um, sorry about that. I should've knocked before I walked in."

"Uh yeah, yeah... I'm sorry too, I should've changed in the bathroom but I forgot my clothes out here and you weren't in the room so I thought you were downstairs eating breakfast and-"

"Spencer!" Sander said, raising his voice slightly, gaining Spencer's attention and making him flush even more at being caught rambling. "I haven't eaten yet, and I'm guessing you haven't either. So would you allow me to apologize by showing you the dining room and the rest of the hotel?"

"You don't have to apologize." Spencer muttered, not knowing that Sander would not take no for an answer, knowing that the young FBI agent would get lost the second he stepped out into the hallway.

"Then don't think of it as an apology Doc, think of it more as a private tour." Sander grinned, showing off his charming smile that he often used to get himself out of trouble and to convince other people into doing what he wanted. He didn't do the latter often, but this is a special occasion.

"Private tour?"

"Private tour. I'll take you all throughout the hotel and introduce you to the people here, when we're done with the formalities I'll take you on a tour all through town."

"Based on Ethan's description of your driving, I'm not too keen on you taking me anywhere."

"We'll walk."

"...alright, but I pay for half of everything."

"No deal, this is my treat, a get to know you present and an apology. If we go anywhere together again _then_ you can pay. Just not today."

Spencer considered the other man's offer, it was tempting. The last time he was here it was for a case, so there was little time for sight seeing. And at this time of year, school was starting up again so there wouldn't be as much tourists in the area, so places wouldn't be as crowded.

"Fine..."

"Awesome! Now let's get some breakfast, I'm starved."

* * *

**This chapter is longer than the last one as a thank you to the new reviewers, favoriters, and followers. I know that some of you might be worried that Sander and Spencer are moving a little fast, but don't worry, I have a plan for this story. I didn't update as soon as I had three reviews mainly because I had to write this, nothing is pre written, mainly because if I pre write something I always end up changing and forgetting something important. **

**Reviews:**

**Arminia: ****I'm glad you were looking forward to this, did I update fast enough?**

**Krisdahwolf0:**** Don't feel bad, but all reviews are appreciated and they help me write. Thanks for the good luck, it probably helped me write this chapter so quickly.**

**TazzieLuv13:**** Perfectly understandable, my dad does that sometimes too. I know, I'm a mean bastard when it comes to writing my OC's past. sometimes even present. If it will appease you, I might add a little smut later, FAR LATER, into the story. I'm talking epilogue or close to the last chapter. Maybe even some in the sequel... **


	8. Chapter 8

"Tour time, breakfast or tour first?" Sander asked while he pulled on his boots and combed his hand through his hair, making it stick up everywhere instead of covering a scar on his forehead. Spencer bit his lip in order not to say anything about it as he pulled on his Converse.

The scar was long, at least four inches and it went from his right eyebrow to his hairline on the left side of his head. It was pale, and people normally wouldn't see it unless they were looking for it. Truth be told, ever since his conversation with Garcia and Morgan last night he had been looking for signs of his past abuse. So far there were the bite marks on his neck, the scar on his forehead, and some burns on his hands that were partially covered by the gloves on his hands.

"Breakfast please, I can't function without my morning coffee." Spencer said as he grabbed his wallet.

"I saw that," Sander said warningly, pointing at the older man's pocket. "I said I would pay for everything."

"Yes but it's better to be safe than sorry."

"Fair enough. Alright, you think you can get to the lobby on your own?"

"Of course." Spencer said, confused when the younger male gained a wicked gleam in his eye and a smirk on his face.

"Lead the way then Doc." Sander said, gesturing to the door and following Spencer out into the hallway. Grinning to himself when Spencer made wrong turn after wrong turn.

"Alright, you clearly know this hotel better than I do!" Spencer groaned as they ran into yet another dead end. "This hotel is the equivalent of a labyrinth!"

Sander chuckled, "you actually did better than I thought you would. Follow me." Sander said, starting down the seemingly never ending hallways that twisted and turned every which way. Within ten minutes, Sander had them back at their shared room. "Alright, in order to get from Point A," Sander pointed at the hotel room, "to Point B – the lobby – you need to go straight down this hallway." Sander said, pointing to the right, which is just the way they came from.

"But that way leads to a dead end."

"That's exactly my point." Sander said, jogging down to the end of the hallway, which was in fact, a dead end.

"Like I said, a dead end." Spencer pointed out, watching in fascination as Sander leaned on the right side of the hallway, making the dead end in question open up to reveal an ornate door with intricate designs on it. "How did that happen?"

"Back in the old days, the Davis family helped runaway slaves hide from their owners or masters or whatever. They designed this hallway specifically to hide them, on the other side, it looks exactly like it did on this side, a dead end." Sander explained, opening the door and stepping through, revealing the main hallway and staircases.

"How did I not notice this?"

"They usually keep the door open when guests are here, but I closed it just to screw with you." Sander winked and lead the way down the end of the hallway and marching down the stairs.

"So you sent me on a wild goose chase for your own amusement?"

"Absolutely."

"Why?"

"I'm a man of simple pleasures." Sander shrugged, "if it's any consolation, Kat did that to me all the time until I figured it out. You're lucky that I let you through at all, one time she kept me in there for three hours."

"You didn't get mad?" Spencer asked as they arrived on the second floor, pausing when Sander bent down to grab a cat from his bed.

"This is Charlie, he's old but we love him. And to answer your question, when I found out, I was pissed. I put Nair in Kat's shampoo." Sander grinned at him, stroking the old gray cat's head. "Charlie here was just a kitten and I'm pretty sure his earliest memories are of Kat and me at war."

"Kat and I."

"Kat and you what?"

"You said Kat and me, the correct term is Kat and I."

"What are you, my English teacher?"

"No, I was just correcting your grammar."

"So you're my Language Arts teacher."

"No I'm not."

"You sure are acting like one Doc."

Spencer sighed before giving up, it was clear that the man standing before him would not lose that argument even if it meant standing there all day and missing breakfast, and Spencer needed his coffee. "Fine, can we go get breakfast now?"

"Sure thing Doc." Sander said, grinning in triumph as he let the old cat hobble back to his bed. Returning to his slumber, the cat sleepily blinked at Sander before drifting off again. Sander's bright grin fell off of his face as he watched the cat.

"What's wrong?" Spencer asked, to his knowledge, he didn't say anything worthy of Sander becoming depressed.

"It's nothing-" At Spencer's disbelieving look Sander sighed. "Charlie is twelve years old, and the vet said that he wouldn't live to see five. So right now I'm just waiting for the old guy to fall asleep and never wake up, it's possible because sleeping is all he seems to do now. He was even like this when I visited five years ago."

"I'm sorry." Spencer said, he really couldn't say more. He had never lost a beloved pet before, so he had no way of empathizing with the younger man.

Sander waved him off, "at least when he does die he won't be suffering."

Spencer practically heard the misery in his voice before Sander turned around, took a deep breath, and plastered an obviously faked smile before leading the way downstairs again. Spencer stared at him sadly, knowing that when he was talking about Charlie dying he was also talking about his mom and sisters. Spencer knew that there was more to their deaths than was in that file, and the only people who knew exactly what were Daniel Austin and Sander Mason.

They reached the lobby and all traces of sadness from Sander's face seemed to have disappeared. He walked up to an older man and woman before asking, "miss me?"

"Sander," the man began, enveloping the young man into a large bear hug. "It's good to see you again boy."

"You too Carter, Cassandra."

"Sander, you really should visit more often." The woman – Cassandra – said as she hugged him, wiping tears from her eyes. Spencer could see the love that they all shared for each other. It was obvious that these people were Katherine's parents, and indirectly, Sander's as well.

"Ah well, you know me. I go wherever the wind takes me." Sander said before nodding at Spencer and motioning him over, "this is Doctor Spencer Reid, he's a friend of Ethan's."

"It's nice to meet you, this is a lovely hotel."

"Thank you very much Doctor." Carter said, grinning at Sander and winking at him, which went unnoticed by Spencer. In response, Sander did the _zip your lip _motion all the while blushing uncharacteristically.

"I'm guessing what took you both so long is the fact that Sander properly initiated you?"

"What?"

"Did he shut the secret door and tell you to find the lobby?" Carter asked, elaborating for the confused younger male. It was obvious to the old man that Sander liked him, after all, Sander did only go after people with dark eyes and light hair. Sander had a type, but not all people seemed to get that. Especially the _woman_ in the clubs he went to every now and then. They just didn't seem to understand that he was gay, or maybe they knew but they thought they could change him after one night of meaningless sex.

He never excepted their offers, but that didn't mean that he refused the males that propositioned him. Both tops and bottoms alike, he didn't care as long as he had sex he was satisfied. He sounded shallow, but it's not like he went to the clubs only to hook up. It just happened that way.

"Um yes." Spencer agreed, looking back at Sander who was grinning mischievously and looking at something or someone in the far distance.

"I keep telling you people not to do that right away, you could scare him off!" Cassandra stated finally, whacking both Sander and Carter in the back of the head, making them both turn to her and apologize.

"Quit your groveling San and show your boyfriend-"

"He's not my boyfriend!"

"To the dining room and get him something to eat. He looks like a twig!"

Sander sighed and rubbed his neck before grabbing Spencer by the elbow and leading him to the dining room. There were multiple people in the room, not many, but more than ten. "Sorry about Cassandra, she tends to make guesses that aren't always correct."

"It- it's fine." Spencer mumbled, grinning at the sheepish smile Sander threw over his shoulder.

"Alright then, pick what you want and if you don't think you'll want seconds get 'em anyway. If you don't eat 'em I will." Sander said, his southern accent subtly pronouncing itself as he eyeballs the food in front of him. There were multiple dishes set on the aisle including scrambled eggs, an omelet station, bacon, sausage, pancakes, waffles, fruits and muffins. At the end of the line was a coffee station. Spencer grabbed three pancakes, some eggs and a muffin before shuffling over to get his coffee, filling up his mug and pouring a copious amount of sugar into it. He looked around and saw Sander with two waffles on a plate along with strawberries, grapes, and bacon, along with a glass of orange juice. Sander had his tray set on the counter as he talked with the cashier.

Sander pulled a twenty dollar bill from his wallet and handed it to the young man behind the counter, grinning and winking at him before motioning Spencer to join him when he walked over to a table. Ethan, Katherine, and Katherine's parents were sitting there, all chatting together.

Both of them sat down and began to eat. "So, you get a number?" Katherine asked Sander.

Sander in response finished chewing before digging a receipt out of his pocket and tossing it at her. "Don't I always?"

"How do you do that? I had to practically scream _I like you_ at Ethan before he understood that I liked him."

Sander smirked, "I have this thing called a lovable personality, you should get one sometime."

"So are you going to call him?" Spencer asked this time, nibbling on his muffin and stirring his coffee.

"Probably not. I mean, I don't want to sound like a jackass, but I didn't even ask for it. And I didn't even flirt with him."

"I saw you wink at him." Spencer pointed out, grinning at the confused look on his face as Sander popped a grape in his mouth.

"I did?"

"Sander is an unintentional flirt, does it all the time." Cassandra said as she cut a piece of her waffle and popped it into her mouth.

"Hah! Unintentional my ass, he knows what he does to those poor guys and wallows in the attention he gets!" Katherine said, leaning over Sander's plate and looking at Spencer straight in the eye. "But I'm sure if he flirts with _you_ he'll mean it," Katherine said winking, making the flirt in question blush brightly as he downed half of his orange juice in one go.

"Shut it Davis..."

"Bite me Mason."

"Where and how hard?"

"Enough!" Carter exclaimed as he watched the two twenty eight year olds bicker as if they were fourteen.

"Sorry Dad..."

"Sorry Mister Davis..."

"Don't be sorry, just shut up and eat before your food gets cold. I won't allow you to waste any."

"Yes sir," Sander muttered, clearly embarrassed at being chastised by his mentor. Spencer found himself grinning at the family bickering, exchanging looks with Ethan as the other man downed his coffee and finished off his eggs and hash browns.

After that conversation the table was mainly occupied by the scraping of forks against plates. Spencer was pleasantly surprised as he ate his food, everything was fresh, the muffin was nice and moist, and the pancakes were sweet even without syrup. "This food is amazing..."

"Yes!" Sander yelled happily, holding his hand out to Katherine, who slipped a twenty into his hand.

"What was that?" Spencer asked, looking between the two, who both looked like they had been caught trying to rob a bank.

"Well, you see..." Sander began.

"Sander and I made a bet, he said that you would fall in love with the food immediately and I said that you would need a day to get used to it." Katherine finished, looking at the genius cautiously. After all, you never know who could get mad after finding something like that out. It was an unlikely possibility, but it has happened before.

"You made a bet about my food preference?"

"Yep." Katherine said simply while Sander fiddled with the strawberry in his hand before taking a bite out of it awkwardly, under the scrutiny of the FBI agent he was clearly uncomfortable.

Katherine noticed Spencer's staring and laughed lightly, "don't worry about Sander, when he's embarrassed or knows that anything he says will be taken the wrong way he tends to clam up."

"Do not!"

"Do too!"

"Do not!"

"Do too!"

"Do not!"

"Do too!"

"Do not."

"Do too!"

"Do fucking not!"

"I will not tolerate that language in my dining room!" Cassandra interrupted harshly, glaring at the two adults she helped raise. Sander may not be her flesh and blood, but that didn't mean it affected her opinion of the young man.

Besides, with Carter's heart problems he can't do much strenuous activities. Sander however was in tip top shape and appeared happy to do anything for the family.

Cassandra normally had no problem with cussing, but if you say _fuck _or _motherfucker_ she will tear you to pieces. And that is putting it lightly.

"Sorry ma'am." Sander mumbled, ashamed that he let himself say that in front of her. It was one of the only rules that Cassandra made, but she was the Queen of this hotel and she ruled with an iron fist, demanding respect from any and all occupants. That was most likely what made her such a good person. She didn't take shit from anybody and always spoke the truth. She didn't sugarcoat things either. Sander had learned that the hard way when he moved in with them.

As everyone finished their breakfast, the dining room began to clear out and people were starting to leave the room, most likely to swim in the pool out back or to roam the grounds.

"Alright Spencer, you want to officially meet people now or after a tour of the city?"

"Now, I'd like to get it over with, considering that when we get back the first thing I'll do is pass out in bed."

"Same," Sander laughed. "Let's get started."

* * *

**Damn, you guys are running me to the ground! And thanks to the lovely Krisdahwolf0 I now have a ship name for our favorite oblivious people, Sancer! Or Spender, but Sancer has a certain ring to it, you know?**

_Reviews:_

_Arminia:__ Aw thanks for saying! That's awesome! And I loved the awkward moment as well..._

_Krisdahwolf0:__ I love the ship name! I'm in a hurry so this'll be short, and the BAU's reaction will be... interesting to say the least._

_TazzieLuv13: __Yes, yes you do! I'm not going to have them jump into the sexual part of the relationship right away, that happens too often! And yes a sequel._


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